Nowhere Quickly Pales
When the last train left the station
Dead commuters thronged the tracks
And a howl of indignation
Crept around the sidings.
Whistles blew in neat formation
A lone duck flew past and quacked
Its hillbilly nonsense of invention
Echoed over all three Ridings
Contributors: | dan, Apsley, dkb, Beefy, fester. |
Poem finished: | 14th March 2002. |